


Sounding Echoes

by FireEye



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-20
Updated: 2013-05-20
Packaged: 2017-12-12 04:35:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 16,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/807282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireEye/pseuds/FireEye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Kaidan returns from a BAaT student's funeral missing time and easily disoriented, Shepard finds herself with an unstable Biotic on her hands and faced with having to blundgeon through Alliance beaurocracy to get to the heart of the matter.  For the Mass Effect Big Bang, Spring 2013.  Fic by FireEye, Art by DarkistheNight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Long Distance

([This Way to Delicious, Delicious Arts](http://darkisthenight.tumblr.com/post/50898152092/artwork-for-mebb-2013-with-twistedsinews-read) by [DarkistheNight](http://darkisthenight.tumblr.com/))

The lights dimmed on command, leaving the room adequately illuminated merely by the bustle of the distant city nightlife beyond the window.  With the door locked, and the desk terminal kindled to life, Kaidan sloughed his dress jacket, draping it over his arm.  After taking a moment to sign in to the Alliance Military network, he tossed the jacket to the bed.

Flitting through his personal notifications, he paused, squinting at a subject line that caught his eye.

 _Top Secret_.

As if she would send anything in secret over an official channel, least of all one that was routinely scanned for breaches of security and protocol as a matter of procedure.

Smiling wryly, he flicked _play_.

As the holographic display expanded to encompass his command, he crossed the room to sit on the bed and unlace his dress shoes.

 _“Hey.”_   Reaching down to pull his everyday fatigues from his travel bag, where he had unceremoniously shoved them that morning, he glanced up at the recording.  _“I, um... I know you’re busy with your thing, and I don’t want to distract you from it too much, but I thought I might call to, you know,”_ the holographic Shepard flicked her fingers, _“keep you up to date with the situation we have on our hands, so you’re up to speed when you get back..._ ”

Kaidan changed out of his dress uniform as he listened to her brisk rundown.  He folded the dress jacket at its creases, placing it with all due care into its case, atop the matching remainder of the dress uniform.  The case went into his travel bag, along with the rest of his meager possessions, ready to pick up and go come the morning call.

Sitting on the bed, he lost his train of thought in the creases of his hands, scratching up his arm listlessly. 

_“...not sure Liara’s up for it, so we’ll be waiting on you.  Hopefully, he won’t pack it in and run before we can pick you up and nail him.”_

He glanced across the room at the sudden silence, where, upon a flat terminal built into the desk, Shepard scratched the nape of her neck, twisting her fingers in her shirt collar, contemplative.

 _“Not much else to report,”_ she reflected.  Shaking her head, she pulled her hand away, and looked straight into the camera.  _“Get your ass back here soon, would you?  Fredricks nailed me one in the back of the head when we were cleaning out the bunker on Sitaur; I’m looking forward to having some actual combat support out here.  And even if I wasn’t worried about friendly fire, I’m sick of having to do all my own paperwork.”_

“Smooth, Shepard.”

On the screen, Shepard studied the display in front of her, the angle from the recorder making her appear uncharacteristically downcast.  Her eyebrows knit together and she ran a thumbnail along her lower lip, and Kaidan wondered what she was thinking about.  If it were him, he might have been tempted to slip in a more personal message under the radar.

It was a bad idea.  Career ruining.

Instead, she shook her head, and reached up.  The recording ended, and the display reverted to his personal Alliance database interface.

Kaidan smiled.  Better that she didn’t.

“Replay,” he told the console.  He reclined on the bed, letting the day fade out.  Folding his hands behind his head, he stared at the ceiling, reveling in the sound of her voice.


	2. Making Up For Lost Time

The light flicked on at the front of the cabin, signaling passengers ready to disembark.

Kaidan stretched in his seat, a vain attempt at loosening the kinks that had formed in his back.  As everyone around him began to move, a drowsy sense of vertigo swept over him.  He waited for the initial crush of impatient passengers to thin out, then retrieved his travel bag from the compartment beneath his feet.

The vertigo subsided quickly, and the stiffness eased off slowly as movement stretched his muscles back into shape.  The drowsiness lingered, drifting in and out, scarcely heavy enough to notice.

Travel fatigue from Earth to Arcturus was nothing to sneeze at.

Being the only Alliance soldier on the transport offered him swift passage through the queue, and Kaidan cut through the plaza to make his way to the military docking bays.

~*~

A cluster of ground marines, nearly half the _Normandy_ ’s compliment by head count, had gathered in the gangway.  On reflex, he silently counted them by name as he approached.  Abruptly, all of them jumped, and two of them saluted.  Kaidan glanced over his shoulder, finding no one else in sight.

“Would you relax?” he teased, smiling wryly as he passed them by.  “I’m not even on duty yet.”

They stared after him as he stepped into the airlock, and the outer door fell closed between them.  The decon cycle started.  Perhaps only in his imagination, the procedure seemed to last a trace longer than usual, before the inner door unsealed and the ship’s VI welcomed him aboard.

Turning aft, he managed one step onto the catwalk.

“Look who finally decides to turn up.”  Kaidan paused.  Before could he even think to ask, the pilot offered his unsolicited opinion on the matter, “Word of advice, man: Hide.  Whatever hole you crawled out of, crawl right back into it.  Because Shepard is _pissed_ right now.”

“What?  Why?” Turning back from the catwalk, Kaidan approached the helm,  “What’d I do?”

“Do you really not know how _not_ on time you are?”  Joker’s derision faded when Kaidan booted his omni-tool, and he adjusted his cap, sinking back into his seat.  “Oh, man, you really don’t, do you?”

Kaidan’s hand closed around the back of the chair, closing out the omni-tool in the process.  He brought his other hand up to his eyes, rubbing at his eyes.  “Where’s Shepard?”

“Hell if I know,” Joker shrugged, focusing on the console in front of him.  He flexed his fingers in emphasis.  “She took off hours ago.  You know her, could be anywhere.”

Wrapping the strap of his bag tightly around his fingers, Kaidan turned towards the heart of the ship to stow his gear.  _First things first_.

~*~

Aside from the constant low hum of the holographic projectors, The Memorial was quiet.  Peaceful.  The first few cenotaph assemblies he checked were empty, each cycling through random remembrances on standby.

At long last, he found her, alone at the center of a cenotaph, her back to the door.  Albeit uncertain whether Shepard would welcome being interrupted, Kaidan let the curtain fall behind him, and his gaze was drawn upward to the three-dimensional holo of a hawkish woman, bedecked in a dress uniform, larger than life.

Unable to see the entire memorial slide from where he stood, he gleaned what little he could – a name, a rank, a date, _2177_ , stamped with _KIA_ –  before the holo dissolved, phasing into the visage of another woman, younger than the first, wearing a lieutenant commander’s stripes.

Her poise was more reserved, solemn, and she stared out over the room with deep, unfathomable eyes.  Kaidan glanced at the slide faster this time, before it could dissolve into the next.  Again, a partial name, a rank, and the same death date.  Assorted little life details, distilled down into an easy to digest format.  As soon as his eyes left the slide, his gaze snapped back, seeking for the additional blurb that he hadn’t expected, a detail that the deceased commander definitely hadn’t shared with the captain preceding her. 

_Incept date: 2151_

As Kaidan stepped down into the room to get a better view of the memorial slide, Shepard abruptly raked her fingers through the interface.  The console trilled its disapproval at her command, the display glitched, and the memorial suite rebooted.  Shepard leaned into the console, her countenance belied by the all-too-familiar tension weighing down between her shoulders.

Kaidan closed the distance between them.  Hesitant, he reached for her, if only to touch her.

“Don’t.”

Kaidan’s hand froze a mere breadth from her shoulder.  His fingers curled against his palm, and he dropped the effort altogether.  He squared his posture as she turned to face him, and she gripped the console behind her, regarding him silently.

“Shepard...”

Her eyes darkened, and he swallowed.  Perhaps he should have started his address with _Commander_.  “You’re late.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?” she echoed.  “So, what, you think because you’re fucking up the chain, you can... just...” her shoulders rolled, as she stumbled for the right words.  “Fuck off and do whatever the hell you want?”

“What?”  An incredulous scoff made it past his lips before he could think twice.  “No.”

“Oh, no.”  Shepard blinked, giving a brisk shake of her head, and slight reprieve from her sharp gaze.  “Of course not, I suppose this is some kind of biotic perk.”  Her lip curled as Kaidan flinched.  “Show up whatever hour of whatever day it’s convenient.”

“Shepard, I don’t know what happened, okay?”  He glanced at the silent hall surrounding them, seeking his answer, to no avail.  “I’m sorry, I lost track of time, I don’t even know _how_ I....”  Her eyes narrowed, her mouth pressed into a thin line, and he abandoned his unbefitting attempts at excusing the matter all together.  He didn’t know, it didn’t matter.  “I’m sorry.”

Shepard breathed deeply; in, then out.  Her focus drifted over his shoulder.  Swallowing, she gestured at nothing, and Kaidan reached for her hand as it fell.  It fluttered out of his grasp, coming to land on his chest, and he stilled, staring.  When Shepard finally spoke, her voice was full of grit.

“You scared the hell out of me.”

If it weren’t for the tenuous connection, resting so delicately over his heart, Kaidan might have taken a step back to give her space.

“I’m sorry, I...” All the things he could say, _wanted_ to say – _I’m back_ , _I’m home_.  _It’ll never happen again_ , _I promise_.  _I love you, I’ve missed you_ – stuck in his throat.  He slid his arms around her; she settled into the embrace, and he pressed a kiss to her temple.  “I’m so sorry.”

“Next time,” Shepard growled into his shoulder, breath warm through the cloth of his shirt, “I will shove my boot so far up your ass, you’ll be picking synthetic leather out of your teeth.”

Swallowing past the lump that had formed in his throat, Kaidan laughed.  “Shepard, if there’s a next time, I will consider it my privilege to bend over and let you do the honors.”

Shepard harrumphed in reply, though the tension eased from her shoulders beneath his arms.  Her fingers trailed up along his chest, traversing his neck to tangle in his hair.  Kaidan’s hands ventured down her back, towards the seams of her uniform.  He pulled at her shirt, tugging the hem out from beneath her belt, sliding the fabric upward as his fingertips traced old scars.

Shepard twisted in his arms, and he pulled just far enough away for her to capture his mouth.  She teased at his lip with her teeth before drawing him deeper, and he sighed, crooning deep in the back of his throat.

Her hip bumped the panel behind her.  Blindly, she reached out to steady herself against it, dragging him down, snug against her.  The console trilled its disapproval, and Shepard sprung forward, knocking Kaidan back.

Flustered, Shepard made a show of tucking her shirt back into place and smoothing the wrinkles he’d put in her uniform, all the while glaring sidelong at the holographic interface.  Kaidan chuckled, ruffling his fingers through her hair.  Her efforts slowed as his fingers lingered against the back of her neck, and she chewed at her lip.

“Um, look, I...” Kaidan glanced up, trailing off.  Shepard followed his gaze, to the grizzled, holographic man in uniform looming above them.  “Can we get out of here?  The creepy holograms are staring.”


	3. Best Laid Plans

The shabby outpost had seen better days.

Technically, Tuole belonged to the Systems Alliance.  Such niggling legalities aside, the colony was a haven for illicit tradeoffs, backroom deals, and all breeds of piracy.  Situated at the far edge of the Traverse as it was, sitting in a system without a relay, and sharing a cluster with a known pirate warlord, the colony was light years from any prominent authority.  There were more than enough credits being swept under the rug to keep it that way.

Watching residents and transients alike, Shepard stretched on the roof of a low building, almost lethargic under the pale blue sun as it crept towards zenith at an unperceivable pace.  The grungy dome above deflected some of the heat, but the rest was absorbed into the sweltering metal beneath her.

Every so often, her gaze would drift from the shabby apartments ahead to Kaidan, crouched in the shadow of the alley at its corner.  Conversation had run dry hours ago, yet she was equally content to watch him across the square, eyes crinkling at the corners as her mind wandered.

There was movement at the door of the building.  Shepard’s focus snapped to and narrowed, and she brought her rifle to bear.

“There’s our krogan,” she breathed.

Chewing her lip, Shepard regarded the sight down her scope.  Saren’s army had been built off a genetic databank of krogan warlords and mercenaries.  The stray, would-be krogan warlord was massive, lumbering forward with an aggressive confidence.  The familiar crest stood out amidst his handful of krogan followers, and for a moment the waves of an ocean lapped at her memory.

It wasn’t a surprise – they had solid intel on who and what they were dealing with.  Though unscarred, Sveris was built off Urdnot Wrex.

Shepard held her breath.  When the biotic gravity storm she was expecting didn’t materialize, she let it out in a puff, and one quizzical eyebrow arched .  “You guys seeing something that I don’t?”

 _“I do not,”_ Liara’s voice replied in her ear.  _“I am waiting on Lieutenant Alenko.”_

Shepard spared a glanced at Kaidan in his hiding place.  “...Alenko?”

Below, his head jerked up, and he cast about the alley.  _“Uh... Yeah?”_

“The krogan?” she prodded, tamping down on the inexplicable sentiment.  “Anytime, now?”

 _“Oh. Right, um...”_   Kaidan rubbed at his faceplate. _“The krogan.  Sorry.”_

Concern wormed its way through her, but Shepard once again settled into position.  Fortunately, Sveris wasn’t in a hurry.  His laughter rang through the air as two of his subordinates got into a grappling fit.

Ice shot down Shepard’s spine as, through the scope, she watched the band of krogan turn as one.  Shepard jerked back to find that Kaidan had stepped out of cover, pistol raised – though at this distance, she couldn’t read his face.

“What the hell are you-...”

The pack of krogan converged on him.

With no time to wonder, Shepard ducked her head.  She let the scope drift – _in, out_ – and held her breath.  In two shots, one krogan out of the seven dropped, and the one nearest Kaidan roared, blindly lunging for the krogan next to him.  She sighed, but relief was far from hand.

Her sniper rifle overheated, Shepard scrambled forward.  Tabbing a shot of adrenaline, she lunged off the roof and into the street, running the instant she hit the ground.  Sveris caught sight of her, and he met her challenge with biotics flaring and an eerily familiar shark’s tooth grin, likewise charging directly for her.  At the last minute, she dropped, skidding to one side and slamming her rifle into his knee.

Sveris stumbled, and Shepard dropped her rifle, shooting him repeatedly with her pistol before he could recover.  Ignoring the flicker as shotgun pellets spattered against her shields, she dodged the second krogan that charged her, kicking her feet against his head as he landed heavily against the pavement and twisting to get a good angle at his face.

She tabbed a second shot of adrenaline just before the third krogan fell upon her, rage blind, gaping maw dangerously close to her face.  Writhing, she jammed the barrel of her weapon in his bloodied eye and pulled the trigger.

The krogan’s weight slumped on top of her, and she struggled out from under him.  She lifted her head and shoulders from the pavement, in time to see the final two take off running in opposite directions through the thin crowd that had gathered.  Liara started after them, torn on whether they were giving chase.  Kaidan simply stood in the middle of it all, staring at the carnage around him.

Shepard’s helmet hit the pavement with a hollow _thunk_ as she dropped back, letting the stimulant rage through her system.

~*~

The decon cycle stretched on in uncomfortable silence.  The moment the inner door opened, Shepard squeezed through, tossing a command towards the cockpit.

“Moreau, Citadel, now.”

Joker didn’t comment, and simply booted the preflight algorithm as she turned onto the catwalk.  Navigators made way as Shepard made a beeline for the deck below, with Alenko and T’soni trailing in her wake.

 

They reached the crew deck, and Kaidan fell into step behind Liara.  Shepard eyed him critically.

“Alenko,” her measured voice pulled him away from the elevator, “My cabin, please.”

He exchanged a backward glance with Liara, before following Shepard on the path around the elevator well.  Of the four marines clustered around the mess hall table beyond, Fredricks stood up, not quite but barely in Shepard’s way.

“Ma’am, with all due respect-”

“Cram it,” the commander told him as she passed, and Fredricks fell back hard into his seat.  Preston squeezed his shoulder, and the lot of them craned to watch Shepard disappear into the captain’s cabin, with Alenko at her heels.

 

Shepard dropped her helmet on the table, hand landing on top of it.  She stared at Kaidan, eyebrows knit together in a scowl that didn’t reach her mouth.  “What the hell happened back there?”

Kaidan sucked in a breath.  His glance around the room phased into a shake of his head.

“I don’t know, I guess I got a little...” He closed his eyes tightly, and blinked them open again.  “...flustered.”

“Flustered,” Shepard repeated, voice flat.  She closed the distance between them and squared her shoulders, staring up at him.  “How _flustered_ do you have to be to-...”

Kaidan dropped his gaze over her shoulder, avoiding her stare.  “If you weren’t feeling up to it, if you needed more downtime, you should have told me.”

Setting her jaw, Shepard reached up.  Pressing her fingers to his cheek, she brought his attention back to her.  Kaidan flinched under her fingertips, and her hand trailed down to rest against his neck.  She studied his face, trying to make sense of his guarded expression.

“Kaidan, are you alright?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

It was Shepard’s turn to flinch.  Her hand slid further down against his chest.  “You sure?”

“Am I dismissed?”

“Dismissed?” Her eyebrows flared.  She blinked at him.  “Okay, sure.  Why not.”

Kaidan stepped back from her, and her hand dropped entirely.  He offered a cursory salute, before taking his leave.

The door closed behind him.

Shepard stared after him, and breathed.  _In, out_.

~*~

The metallic reverb of footsteps approaching the cockpit jostled Joker from his trance.  After rubbing clear his eyes, he scratched the itch beneath his beard briskly, sitting up straight.  The display was green, their vector was in line.  No one could fault him for taking a light nap when he wasn’t needed, especially if nothing had gone wrong.

Peering around the back of his chair, Joker blinked, checking the chronometer in the top left of his display.

“That was fast,” he remarked, as the lieutenant slid into the co-pilot’s seat.  “Shepard’s usually a lot more thorough when reaming you out.”

Alenko glanced over, and seemed to shiver.  “Is she?”

“Oh, man.”  Joker snickered, covering his mouth with his hand.  “You really are seriously messed up in the head right now, aren’t you?”

For a moment longer Alenko stared at him, before his gaze dropped to his lap.

“I guess so.”  He shook his head, glancing up again.  “Hey, um... when did she cut her hair?”

Incredulous, Joker scoffed.   He looked to his instruments for guidance and, finding none, turned his head back to Alenko.  “Hey, do me a favor?”

Alenko sat up straight, eyes wide.  “What?”

“Don’t _touch_ anything while you’re over there.”


	4. Off the Record

He waved the waitress off, gaze fixed on the woman who walked through the gate.  Even if she hadn’t been uncharacteristically late, one look at her was all it took.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Shepard pulled the wire chair out, orienting its back towards the solid wall.  She slumped into it, leaning the back of her head against the wall and draping one arm across the edge of the glass table.  Anderson smiled grimly.

“Why do I get the feeling this isn’t your usual social call?”

The commander scratched her fingers through her hair, elbow resting against her knee, studying the layout of the small restaurant terrace.  “Sir, how well do you know Lieutenant Alenko?”

“Well enough to know he’s a good man.”  Anderson followed her gaze through the crowd, and looked back to her.

“Have you ever served with him before?”

“Once, on a mission a few years back.  Lasted about six weeks.  And again during the _Normandy_ ’s shakedown run.” Anderson nodded to her.  “You’ve been with him longer than I have.”

There was a tic to her expression which he couldn’t read.

“Was he ever...” Shepard blinked, tearing her attention from a couple seated at the far side of the room to meet his gaze.  “Did you ever notice any strange behavior?”

“None that I can recall.”  Anderson regarded her candidly.  “You want to tell me what’s going on?”

“Off the record?” At Anderson’s gesture of acquiescence, she admitted, “He’s been... erratic.”

“Erratic, how?”

“It’s hard to explain, he... he took emergency leave, to attend this... funeral.”  Shepard’s gaze drifted back into the crowd.  “Since he got back, it’s like he isn’t all there.”

“A funeral?” Anderson shook his head.  “Shepard, did you ever stop to think that it could have hit him hard?  That maybe he’s grieving?”

“That’s not it.”

“You sound pretty sure of that.”

“Even if he was... even if it hit him hard, he wouldn’t be... making these mistakes.”  She raised her arm, flicking her fingers.  “Some of them are passable, but he’s nearly gotten himself killed.”

With a deep sigh, Anderson eased out of his chair.  There was something she was explicitly avoiding telling him.

“How about we skip lunch,” he said.  Shepard watched him circle the table, eyes narrowing.  “Maybe go for a walk, instead?”

“Captain...”

“Come on, Shepard.”  He said, offering her a hand.  “I’m not that hungry and you always pick at your food.”

She reached for his offered hand, and he pulled her to her feet.  Running up her arm, his hand came to rest behind her shoulder as he led her from the terrace.  “Come on.”

~*~

The apartment wasn’t furnished for visitors.  In fact, the only reason it was accommodating at all rested in his unique arrangement in the Alliance hierarchy as Udina’s liaison with handling Shepard, which accounted for a sudden excess of free time on his hands.

Not that he normally had guests to entertain.

“Shepard, get your feet off my coffee table.”

Shepard’s boots hit the floor with a solid and satisfying thud.  Without having to look back, Anderson smirked.  Bearing two mugs of coffee from the small kitchenette, he offered one to Alenko before settling with the other in his own armchair, across from the couch. 

“Thank you,” Alenko said.  Holding the warm mug between his hands, he fixed his gaze on the dark liquid it contained.  Sitting as far to the edge of the couch as she could away from him, Shepard watched him, propping her chin on her knuckles, elbow on her knee.  The fingers of her other hand flexed to and from a fist between her knees.

Though perhaps tinted by Shepard’s overactive suspicions, Anderson could sense a definite change in Alenko’s bearing, slight though it may have appeared to him.  There was a tension, an insular change, whereas normally Anderson would have expected the man in front of him to be more at ease with himself.

“The commander tells me you’ve been having problems,” Anderson said, cutting to the quick.  Alenko’s head jerked up, and the coffee sloshed in the mug.  “You wanna talk about it?”

Alenko cast a not entirely subtle glance in Shepard’s direction, and Anderson frowned.

“Would you like to talk to me, alone?” he asked, “One on one?”

“I...” he glanced at Shepard again, more openly this time, and shook his head,  “I’m sorry, I honestly don’t know what all this is about.”

“That’s all right, neither do we,” Anderson told him.  “We’re just trying to get to the bottom of what’s troubling you.”

Since Alenko wasn’t overly eager to offer insight, Anderson led the conversation, starting with the funeral and working backwards.  For the most part, Alenko answered his queries promptly, though there were moments when he hesitated, and where his answers seemed not entirely honest.

Anderson kept half an eye on Shepard’s reactions.  She stayed silent throughout the interrogation, watching Kaidan with an appearance of utmost laziness, if her hand hadn’t been curled into so tight a fist.  All at once, her eyes narrowed as she studied him, and she cut in between questions.

“Kaidan, what year is it?”

“It’s, um...” It took him a moment, before he answered with near certainty, “Twenty-one, seventy-four,” and quickly corrected, “Seventy-five.  Terran reckoning.  _Ma’am_.”

Shepard arched an eyebrow at Anderson, and, setting down his half-empty mug, he reached out for her shoulder.  “Can I talk to you alone for a moment?”

She uncurled, sliding to her feet, and he aimed her towards his bedroom, keenly aware of Alenko watching them go from the corner of his eye.

 

The moment they were out of sight, Shepard shivered.  He could see it in her shoulders as she turned to face him, crossing her arms.

“Under normal circumstances,” Anderson told her, “I’d suggest bringing him to a doctor to get his head examined.”  He sighed, deeply, under her expectant gaze.  “But... he’s a biotic.  The Alliance prefers that biotics be treated by Alliance specialists.”

Her hands slid, one up her shoulder, and the other along her side, as her arms tightened around her and her gaze dropped to the floor.  For a moment, Anderson felt the responsibility of her distress weigh heavily upon his shoulders, and he reached out to cover her hand where it rested upon her shoulder.

“If you want, I can-...”

“No,” Shepard interrupted.  Stepping back, out of reach, she shook her head, staring at him.  “It’s not your responsibility.  I can handle it.”

Taken aback by the thickness in her voice, Anderson nodded in numb reply.  Before he could extrapolate and weigh the idiosyncrasies in her behavior, the clatter of something ceramic hitting the floor interrupted his thoughts.  Peering out into the living room, he found that Alenko had dropped his mug, spilling coffee across the table and floor.

“The Bureau of Transhuman Affairs maintains a research facility on Arcturus,” Anderson said.  “It’s the biggest one we have.  They ought to be able to take care of him.”

Shepard breathed deep, steeling her nerves.  Before she could move, he barred her way with his arm.  “Whatever happens, this isn’t your fault.”

She shrugged him aside.


	5. Rats' Maze

The Bureau of Transhuman Affairs was a multilateral affair.  At the lavish and welcoming front desk, replete with plush pillowed seating and plastic potted plants, the secretary took his time in pulling Kaidan’s file.  In a sterile medical facility, an entourage of scientists and doctors and assistants wasted no time in jotting down notes, poking, prodding, and generally being inquisitive, without actually solving the problem or suggesting any solutions.

On the other side of the compound, Shepard found herself in a less trim and tidy laboratory setting, watching through a glass observation window as Kaidan was run ragged through a barrage of demonstrative evaluations.

Being under constant surveillance never failed to make Shepard’s skin crawl, although she was starting to understand why it never seemed to bother Kaidan.  In fact, if she didn’t know better, she might have thought he was thoroughly enjoying the exercise.  At the very least, there was an air of self-awareness to his movements; he was toying with the simulations, and taking risks she never would have imagined in the field.

Every so often, in between exercises, he would glance back at the window.  Once Shepard even caught the shadow of a smile, and she had to scoff.

 _Showoff_.

Shifting her gaze, she stared at the nearest of the assembled scientists – Doctor Oro – who had thus far among her fellow researchers showed a most keen interest in the study.  Noticing Shepard’s reflection in the glass, Oro stared back at her.

“If you have any questions, I would be happy to answer them.”

In lieu of _what’s wrong with my lieutenant?_ , Shepard instead remarked, “I am failing to see the point.”

“The point,” the doctor said, “is to measure what we know of Lieutenant Alenko’s capabilities with his prior records.  It may help us pinpoint where his behavior discrepancies are coming from, not to mention assist in future studies should this become a recurring problem among human bio-...”

Shepard hissed in a breath, eyes narrowing.  “ _Everybody down!_ ”

She lunged forward, grabbing the doctor and pushing her to the floor under the window.  The glass shattered above their heads, showering down, and a drone skittered across the floor, crashing into a computer console against the far wall.

Kaidan peered over the rim of the windowsill, eyes wide.

“Is everyone okay?”

“You missed,” Shepard tossed back, brushing the flakes of glass from her hair before doing the same down Oro’s back.

~*~

The anteroom was small – a waiting room for patients and their families, off of the examination room where the doctors could confer in private.  It was fitted with the same plush chairs as the lobby, and Shepard kicked her feet up on an end table beside a chrome vase filled with plastic lilies.  Halfway to the hallway door, Kaidan stood, fixated on the undersized vortex of biotic energy between his hands.

The door to the examination room opened, the vortex vanished, and Shepard’s feet hit the floor.

Doctor Oro appeared, slate in hand.  This time, she was accompanied by a security guard rather than the more twitchy aide that had been shadowing her steps.  The man sized up Shepard as she approached them and came to rest at Kaidan’s shoulder.  Without being as obvious about it, Shepard did much the same.  Oro studied the contents of her report.

“Your standard scores – base energy output, mnemonic retention, reflexes, and so forth and so on, all appear to be markedly lower than your former average.  All in all, you show a drop in both power and finesse from your last recorded session.”  Oro sighed, scrolling over her data briskly.  “Unto itself, this wouldn’t be much a cause for concern, as scores will often show a pattern of fluctuation over time.   However, coupled with this previously unrecorded instability, frequent lapses of attention and episodes of disorientation, I must admit that the results are troubling.”

She looked up at her guard, then to Kaidan.  “Given the... uniqueness of your situation , we have determined that it is in our best interest to place you under Class Seven surveillance.”

To Shepard, the statement was meaningless, but beside her, Kaidan visibly started.  His hand snapped to the back of his neck, and he pulled his amp from its port, holding it out to Doctor Oro.  She plucked it from his palm, giving him a gracious smile in return.

“We appreciate your cooperation,” she said.  “We will have accommodations made for you on the premises.”

“What the hell did I just miss?” Shepard asked, earning a glower from the guard.  Seemingly having forgotten her presence, the doctor gave her a perplexed look, but it was Kaidan who answered.

“Class Seven is a marker indicating high instability,” he explained.  “Authorizing control measures up to and including euthanasia.”

“Euthanasia,” Shepard repeated, voice flat.

“In extreme cases,” Doctor Oro amended.  “In the interest of public safety, Commander.  You understand.”

Shepard forced a grin of her own, merely to enjoy watching the doctor’s tacky smile falter.  “Not really, no.”

~*~

When the door slid open, Kaidan lifted his arm from his eyes, squinting at his visitor against the bright light of the hallway.  The door slid closed again, and he blinked at the discrepancy.  Crossing her arms, Shepard leaned back against the seam of the doorframe; rolling to sit up, Kaidan swung his legs over the edge of his cot.

Shepard was taken aback by the slow, warm smile that graced his face.  Of half a mind to turn and march straight back out, she gritted her teeth and stood her ground.  “Hey.”

“Hey.”  Kaidan licked his lips.  Mirth colored his voice, as though he were divulging a hidden joke.  “You, um... didn’t shoot me.”

Shepard sucked in a breath.  The discordance between the shy, frightened stranger and the familiar, devoted friend wreaked havoc with her instincts.

“I am sorely tempted,” she replied, lips curling in a grimace.  “If this is some kind of test to see how far my patience goes, I do not appreciate it.”

Kaidan’s smile faltered, then twisted, but didn’t fade.

“No, ah...”  He assured her, “No.  I wish it was, but it’s not.”

The aggression bled out of Shepard’s stance, and her shoulders drooped as she sagged against the steel.  “Nuts.”

Kaidan chuckled.  The warmth of the sound oozed into her chest, squeezing around her heart.

“You don’t seem, um...” Shepard flicked her fingers, finding herself at a loss for the proper words.  “You seem lucid.”

“Yeah, well,” he glanced around the small, bare room.  “It’s nice and quiet here, and good for thinking.”  Shepard’s eyebrows raised, skeptically, and he elaborated, “If I... What I mean is, I _think_ that if I can keep focused, I can keep it together.” There was another twitch in his smile, and he looked away from her, scratching his jaw.  “For a little while.  Maybe.”

Shepard swept her gaze down to his feet, and back up to his face.

“Are we being watched?”

Kaidan blinked, then shrugged.

“Shouldn’t be.”  In reply to her silent stare, he scoffed.  “Alright.  Um.  May I borrow your omni-tool?”

Pulling the pair from her pocket, Shepard unrolled her omni-tool from its haptic glove.  She dropped the former into his waiting hand, and returned the latter to a different pocket entirely as Kaidan brought the omni-tool to life.

Pacing the short distance of the far wall, Shepard watched the play of light and shadow over his face as he tapped into the system, reading the stream of data that was mere gibberish to an untrained eye.  It took him time and concentration, and she chewed her lip at the mere familiarity.

“There’s a rudimentary surveillance system in the lobby, and something a bit more elaborate in the labs down below.”  He closed his hand, and the display vanished.  Looking up, he held the omni-tool back out to her.   “The dorms aren’t being monitored, though.”  At her hesitation, he bobbed his hand a touch higher.  “And the local network’s off the extranet, just so you know.” 

Reaching forward, Shepard stared at the device in his outstretched hand, rather than at how his eyebrows knit together.  For a long moment her hand hovered over his, until her fingers closed around his palm, and she closed the space between them.

Kaidan’s eyes widened, and he watched her ease down on the cot next to him.  Then he smiled again, subtler than before, and squeezed her hand.  “I’m glad you came.”

“We’re marines, remember?” she said, voice flat.

Leaning into him, she stared into the space through half-closed eyes.  Kaidan detangled his fingers from hers, and draped his arm around her.

Shepard breathed deeply; _in, out_.

“Besides, I wanted to make sure you were alright.  This place gives me the creeps.”

“It’s not _that_ bad.”

“Right.”  Shepard’s mouth twisted into a scowl.  “Kaidan, they threatened to _euthanize_ you.”

“Euthanasia is the standard procedure in the event of a biotic who has been determined to be highly dangerous to the public,” Kaidan delineated.  “In practice, it rarely ever happens.”

Shepard’s scowl deepened.  “You seem very calm about all this.”

“I don’t really have a choice.”

“There’s always a choice.”

“Shepard.”  Kaidan squeezed her shoulder.  “I appreciate the sentiment, but... I’m okay.  Really.”  Shepard stared at him, and he blinked at her expression.  “...what?”

“I came here to cheer you up.”  Shepard crossed her arms, dropping her gaze to the floor.  “Tell me, why is it that you’re reassuring me?”

“I guess...” Kaidan felt behind his neck, and shrugged.  “This is my world.  I’ve lived with it my whole life.  You’re still getting used to it.”

Resting her head against his shoulder, Shepard closed her eyes.  Kaidan’s arm tightened around her, and she sighed.

“We could run away,” she murmured.  “Disappear.”

“And then what?”  Kaidan asked.  “Live on the run?  Or in the Terminus?” 

“Wouldn’t have to,” Shepard said.  “If we move the house on Intai'sei a klick north, no one will even be able to find us.”

Kaidan laughed.  His thumb found the line of her jaw, and he traced it to her chin.  “I love you, you know?”

“Yes.”  Shepard flicked at his hand; she shied away, resting with her cheek against her hand, elbow on her knee.  “You only remind me every fifteen minutes.”

“I’m sorry.  I seem to have developed a memory impairment.”

“ _Not_ funny,” Shepard snarled.

“Sorry.”  Kaidan kissed her forehead.  “But I do love you.”

She glanced up at him, eyes narrowed.  “You’re such a sap.”

In answer, he dipped his head, briefly pressing his mouth to hers; he moved on to her throat, and Shepard swallowed.

“I’ll fix it, somehow.”

Kaidan pulled away from her.  A tender smile crossed his lips, crinkling his eyes.  “You might not be able to.”

Scowling, Shepard slid her fingers behind his neck, and dragged him back down.


	6. Misstep

The weapon was stripped to bare parts, arranged in a pattern across the table.

Chin propped against her knuckles, Shepard stared at the parts, seeing only the meaningless pattern.

Reaching first for the inner coil, she began to put the pieces together again, working by the numbers.  In her hands, it began to take form, from the inside out, until she finally snapped the outer casing into place.  She tested the basic function – on-line and loaded – before staring at its compacted form in the palms of her hands.

Shepard left the pistol on the table, dead center, once again whole.

~*~

Kaidan’s room was empty.

Shepard stalked the corridors one by one, checking open rooms, storage closets, and laboratories at random.  At last, she stumbled across Kaidan being led down the hall by a rather perky, cheerful young aide.

“Excuse me,” Shepard told him, sliding between them.  She grabbed Kaidan by the shoulders and spun him about, shoving him before her.  “I need to borrow Lieutenant Alenko, matter of galactic security, you understand.”

“C’mon.”  She slipped her hand around his elbow.  “We’re leaving.”

Kaidan glanced over his shoulder at the aide, then at Shepard’s hand as she dragged him down the hallway.  “I can’t... I, uh... don’t think I’m allowed to leave?”

“Trust me,” Shepard told him, turning down an adjacent hall.

“Okay...”

The network of sterile halls wound their way back to the lobby.  At the end of the final corridor waited a burly woman in a security uniform, along with a smaller secretary.  There was a hitch in Shepard’s step, and she slowed her pace.

“Look, if this doesn’t go well,” Shepard told Kaidan, under her breath, “Find Liara.”

“Who’s Liara?”

Shepard paused, glancing at his empty stare, then sighed, forging onward.

“She’s an asari,” she managed to explain, “She’s waiting outside, by the public shuttle terminal at the end of the promenade.  She’ll... be looking for you.”

Shepard let go of his arm, stepping between him and the security officer in front of them.

“Good of you to meet us at the door.”  Nodding back to Kaidan, Shepard stated, “I’m checking him out of this monkey house.”

“I’m afraid not, Ma’am,” the secretary said, raising his narrow chin defiantly.

Shepard scoffed, forcing a smile.  “I’m a Council Spectre, try to stop me.”

“Ma’am,” the security guard stepped forward, “Spectre or no, you are not authorized to-”

The woman stumbled back as Shepard threw the first punch, cracking against her jaw.  The second hit her chest, and Shepard snapped her leg out to knock the hapless woman onto her back.

Running forward beyond the end of the hall, Shepard found that there were two more guards in the lobby.  Shepard spun around to face them, shoving Kaidan towards the exit.

“Go,” she told him.  “Get out of here.”

“But-...”

“I can handle it, _go_.”

He started to run, and she tripped the guard that tried to run past her after him, sending him sprawling to the floor.   The other lunged at her, catching her by the shoulders before Shepard twisted, grappling with her.  At the edge of her vision, she saw that the first guard had shoved herself to her feet, but the woman stopped short.

Shepard instantly knew why.  Her hair raised along the back of her neck, and gooseflesh trailed down her arms as a bubble of biotic energy came into being.

~*~

 

The promenade was filled with people mulling about, both on official business and for pleasure.  They walked around him as Kaidan stood at the center of the crowd, trying to get his bearings.

If he could remember where he was trying to get to, he might remember what it was he was doing there.  Closing his eyes, he struggled to focus, only to have it shattered by a voice calling his name, with a musical asari lilt.

A woman emerged from the crowd, her movements lithe and certain, and her attention focused entirely on him.  He glanced aside for a moment, looking up again as she reached him.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” she purred, a buildup of static electricity clinging from her hand to his clothes between his shoulders.  Starting at her tattoos, Kaidan stumbled as she veered him towards an empty shuttle on the transit platform.

 

Across the platform, in her less crowded corner behind a public extranet kiosk, Liara gasped as she caught sight of Kaidan, wide-eyed under the arm of another asari.

“Wait!” she cried, sprinting towards him.  Before she could reach him, the shuttle door fell closed, and she jerked backwards to avoid the gravity field the shuttle generated.  For an instant, she ran after it, until she realized the futility of the gesture.

~*~

“What’re you doing here?” Shepard groused.  Clutching the back of her neck, she kept her head down, squinting at the immaculate pair of shoes that stepped into her line of vision.  “Don’t you have a galactic government to oversee?”

“I’m not a Councilor yet, Shepard.”  Anderson nodded to the guard, who silently took his leave.  He circled to one side as Shepard dropped off the reception desk, squaring his shoulders.  Leaning on the desk, the commander rubbed her eyes, pointedly ignoring him.

“What the hell has gotten into you?”

“I thought,” Shepard managed to bite out, “I was doing my good deed for the day.”

“By doing what?” Anderson demanded to know.  “Kidnapping Lieutenant Alenko away from the only people who could possibly help him?”

Her shoulders jerked in a quiet scoff.  “As if they had a clue.”  Shepard shook her head, finally looking up at him.  “Am I under arrest?”

Anderson glanced at the security – both facility and station – clustered on the other side of the lobby, and back to her.  “Not yet.”

The captain’s hand landed on her shoulder, and held her fast, pushing her to face him.

“Shepard, if this is about Ming-...” His hand slid down her arm, and he shook his head.  “That wasn’t your fault.”

“Yeah, it was.”  Shepard pushed his hand away. She rubbed her thumb against her palm, glancing at the door.  “And so was this.”

“Shepard-”

“Captain, biotics are _dangerous_ ,” the commander stated.  “You talk to them, you listen to them, you fight beside them long enough, you start to forget that.”  “And _then_ you start treating them like people.  That’s a mistake I should have learned the first time.”

“That’s not fair,” Anderson snapped, jabbing a finger at her chest.  “And you know it.” Shepard pushed his hand aside.  Turning on her heel, she marched straight for the door.  “Where are you going?”

“Stand down, _Commander_.”

Shepard spun about.  Ignoring the dangerous edge of warning in his voice, she shrugged, throwing her arms out helplessly.  “Spectres only answer to the Council, remember?”

She let her momentum carry her in a full circle, and Anderson spoke to her back.  “You’re forgetting, humanity is a Council Race now.”

“With all due respect, sir,” she threw over her shoulder, “You’re not a Councilor yet.”

~*~

The moment the first of Shepard’s boots hit the deck, Liara backed up a step.  Jerked back along with her as he leaned on her for support, Joker patted her hand where it rested at the crook of his elbow.

“How,” the commander demanded to know, voice dangerously flat.  “How the _hell_ did you _lose_ him.”

“Hey, Commander, you want to take it easy-...”

“It wasn’t my fault,” Liara said, interrupting Joker.  She shivered, nodding her head in a curious circle.  “He _left_ with another asari.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Shepard growled.  “ _You_ were supposed to be looking out for him, why would he leave with another asari?”

“She called out to him, and he went with her.  I couldn’t reach them in time...”  Shepard shook her head, turning down the catwalk.  “Shepard, I tried, _I_ -...”

Liara started to follow after her, only to be held back by Joker.  In response to her wide-eyed shock, he sighed, squeezing her hand.


	7. Lost and Found

In the quiet of her cabin, Shepard stood, eyes closed.

Opening her eyes, she stepped to the table, reaching to grab her pistol from where it rested.  Running a quick check of its system to assure herself it was in working order, she jammed it into her harness.  With one final, wistful glance around the cabin, Shepard sighed.

The Alliance wouldn’t look the other way forever.  Sooner or later, it would all come crashing down on her head.  But she had to find Kaidan before that happened.

 

Stepping out onto the crew deck, she found herself surrounded by a compliment of marines.  Headed, as it seemed, by Corporal Preston who one half-pace forward in comparison to the rest.

“Commander,” she said, glancing to the others.  “Whatever’s going on with the lieutenant, we want to help.”

At her words, there was a round of accompanying nods and glances.  Shepard regarded each of them in turn.

“You want to help?” she asked.  There were another few nods, perhaps not as many as before.  Shepard grit her teeth.  “Help by not letting your emotions get in the way of your damn job.”  She pushed through them, turning back to absorb their shock as she passed.  “Help by staying here and waiting for orders.  And by following those orders when they come through.”

~*~

“Hey, Commander?” Joker leaned over the armrest of the pilot’s chair, and Shepard diverted her course from the airlock, pressing her hand to the bordering archway.  “You know, I’m about as broken up about Alenko turning out to be a dangerous crazed lunatic as the next guy, but the Alliance is on the phone, and the Council is getting _real_ unhappy that we’re slacking off on cleaning up the mess their favorite Spectre made.”

Rolling her shoulders, Shepard turned away.  “Tell them you don’t know where I am.”

“Are you telling me to _lie_?” Joker asked, feigning innocence.  “To the Council?  To the _Admiral_?  Surely _not,_ after they were so gracious in shrugging off that little case of _mutiny_.”

“In twenty minutes,” Shepard told him, “it won’t be a lie.”

Joker leaned back in his chair.  A dark, skeptical chuckle escaped his lips.

~*~

Dr. Bahadir looked up from her dissertation.  Staring at the stranger in her laboratory, she contemplated whether or not to call security.  It wasn’t entirely unknown for after hours visitors to appear, at times she would indulge them, but it was unusual to start with and in her line of work, _unstable_ was both an expectation and an occupational hazard. 

“I’m sorry,” she said.  “The clinic is closed.”

“Yeah,” the woman replied.  Rather than leave, she moved closer, skirting the wall but stopping halfway to Bahadir’s desk.  “It’s an emergency, and I really don’t have anywhere else to turn.”

An Alliance soldier by the look of her – if her uniform hadn’t given it away, her bearing would have.  She looked familiar, although the doctor couldn’t remember having met her, and she didn’t appear to be in pain, but then, many hid their pain well.

“All right, um.”  Bahadir’s eye caught the compacted pistol haphazardly tucked under the woman’s harness, and again she considered calling security.  As it was, she booted up her terminal and connected to the database, and the woman closed the distance to her desk.  “I’ll need to look you up, I’m going to need your name, registration number, incept date, and implant configuration.”

Her eyebrows knit together, then rose sharply, and she scoffed.  “I’m not a biotic.”

Bahadir cocked her head, curiosity overwhelming trepidation.  “Then why are you in my clinic, Miss...?”

“Commander.”

“Commander?”

“My name is Shepard.  I’m with the Alliance Navy.”  Shepard braced herself against the desk, shoulders square.  “I’m here on behalf of...” there was the smallest pause, covering the briefest hitch in her voice, “my lieutenant.”  At last, she looked up, meeting Bahadir’s curious stare with absolute determination.  “I don’t know any of the rest, but he’s an L2, name’s-...”

“Kaidan.”

“Alenko.” There was that flare to her eyebrows again.  “Yeah.”

“Is he alright?” Raising a hand to forestall the answer to her question, Bahadir rubbed her eyes.  “Don’t answer that.  If he was, you wouldn’t be here.  What happened?”

“He’s missing.” Shoving off the desk, Shepard turned on her heel and paced a circle.  “He went UA.  He was under investigation by the Bureau of Transhuman Affairs, he was having these... memory lapses.  Delayed reactions.  Motor problems.”

She paused, and her heel squeaked as it scuffed the floor.  “It’s my fault.  I thought he’d be better off... I don’t know, anywhere else.  I was trying to help him.”

“Most people wouldn’t.”  Bahadir folded her hands in her lap.  “Why come to me?”

“He spoke very highly of you,” Shepard said, softly.  Her eyes glimmered, retaining an edge that her voice did not.  “And like I said, I don’t have anywhere else to turn.”

“I haven’t seen him in fifteen years, Miss... _Commander_.”  Bahadir sighed.  “I don’t understand what you think I can do to help.”

“When Alenko ran, he was picked up by an unknown asari,” Shepard explained.  “Before he started having these episodes, he was on personal leave, to attend a funeral.”

“Amir Holden.”

“It’s a long shot, but I thought there might be a connection.  A virus, or the acclimation program....”  Shepard’s eyes narrowed.  “You didn’t go?”

“For my part, I do what I can for human biotics, but it’s... it can difficult.” Bahadir’s hands  “BAaT was hard for all of us.”  A young girl, long since buried, stirred within her chest.  “Some of us banded together.  Others drifted apart.  Every once in a while, one of... one of us pops up in the news.”  She shrugged.  “A theoretical physicist.  An extremist.  An Alliance Lieutenant.” She smiled, wistful at first, but it twisted.  “Or a footnote in the obituaries.”

“You never kept in touch?”

“I haven’t gone out of my way; most of my patients are strangers.”  Bahadir twisted in her chair, and her hands flew across the haptic controls.  Shepard watched silently, and she swallowed, shoving her bias aside as she skimmed the files. 

“Six have died in the past year, confirmed,” she reported.  “Two were suicides.  Two were accidents.  One was an extremist.  One in the line of duty.”

“Kaira Stirling?” Shepard read off the screen.  “That... was me.”  Rolling her shoulders, she amended, “Us.”

“Kaira took on _Kaidan_?”  Bahadir glanced up, eyes wide.  “I... guess I shouldn’t be surprised.  She was always...”  Shaking her head, the doctor tapped her fingers on the desk and returned her attention to the task at hand.  “What a waste.”

“What about the others?” Shepard prodded softly.

“The accidents were in deep space.  The suicides... one you know, the other some months back.  Neither were suspected as anything but.”

Shepard paced another circle, only to scratch at her throat.

“What about other suicides?” she asked.  “Over the past few years?”

“You know, this is the stuff of conspiracy theorists.”  Bahadir barked a short, self-deprecating laugh.  “We’re biotics.  We’re shunned.  Our implants malfunction.  We go insane.  We wither and die.”

Again, Shepard leaned on the desk.  She sighed deeply, holding her breath at the zenith, and stared over Bahadir’s shoulder at the wall.  “Trust me.  You aren’t the only ones.”

Silence fell between them, and Shepard’s gaze dipped to the metal under her fists as her shoulders slumped.  Bahadir rubbed her hands together, running her thumb over her knuckles.

“Maybe we’re not casting a wide enough net,” she said at length.  “I wonder,” she mused, wiping her display clean and starting on a new task, “People who were involved with the program, but aren’t biotics.”

Shepard raised her head, shock etched between her eyebrows.

“This could take a while,” Bahadir warned, waving in her general direction.  “You might want to grab a seat.”

 

Sorting through the amassed pile of data that was available on the BAaT program was no small feat.  Long hours passed as the doctor disseminated information between herself and her personal VI, writing quick programs to aid in the search whenever a new variable occurred to her.

At first, Shepard paced the room in increasingly intricate circles.  Eventually, she had wound up sprawled upon a chair by the wall, although over time she had slowly curled inward, first at the edges, now slumped forward, clasping her hands together between her knees.  Watching from the corner of her eye, Bahadir had to hand it to her – she knew how to wait.

The doctor looked back to her screen, and blinked.

“Commander?” Shepard’s head jerked in her direction, eyes a touch bleary, perhaps, but sharp and aware.  She stood, rolling her shoulders stiffly as she crossed the room.  “You said Kaidan ran off with an asari?”

The commander came to lean on the back of her chair, squinting at the display.  “Is that who I think it is?”

“I don’t know who you think it is,” Bahadir whispered.  “His name was Vyrnnus, he was hired on as a... consultant, to the BAaT program.”

Shepard’s lips pulled back from her teeth.  “Charming.”

“But look, here.”  Bahadir pulled the image of Vyrnnus aside and tapped the screen, bringing the commander’s attention to the asari in the datafield beside him.  She looked up, watching Shepard read the packet.  “Do you think that’s our connection?”

Shepard’s expression had melted into dead neutrality, offset only by the grim set of her jaw.  “I’d bet on it.”

“That’s... not good.  That’s not good.”  Bahadir’s fingers drummed on the desk.  When she looked up, Shepard wasn’t there.  Across the room, the door whispered open.  “Hey, where are you going?”

“To consult an information broker,” Shepard threw over her shoulder.

For a long moment, Rahna stared at the information on the screen.  She grabbed for her labcoat on the back of the chair, running after the woman who had waltzed into her clinic to dig up old ghosts and turn her evening upside down.

“Wait!”


	8. Jump Zero

They passed through in processing, and Shepard reflexively took to the Military queue.  The guard on duty eyed her, eyebrows raising at the civilian who followed her footsteps.  Shepard glanced down at Rahna, then back to the man.

“It’s alright, she’s with me – I’m a Council Spectre.”  After her credentials cleared, Shepard grabbed Rahna by the shoulder, dragging her along.  As they passed through the gate, Shepard leaned in to add with a tight-jawed grin, “Diplomatic mission, very hush hush.”

“That’s not going to work much longer,” she muttered as soon as they were out of earshot.  She had no way of knowing whether _Normandy_ was still covering for her, nor how long it would take the Alliance to get off its ass to catch up.  Rahna shrugged off her grip, straightening her coat as they stepped out of processing and onto the gallery.  There, she lingered.

For a moment longer, Shepard continued on, before glancing back to account for her sudden absence.

“Welcome to Biotic Acclimation and Temperance,” Rahna echoed quietly out of memory.  “You are-...”  Catching sight of Shepard’s weary gaze, she smiled weakly.  “Sorry.”

She rushed to catch up, and Shepard asked, “Has it changed much?”

“Oh, yeah.” Rahna’s smile remained, although her eyebrows twisted.  “They painted over the blood on the walls.”

 

As they strolled through the crowd, she pulled up her omni-tool.  Within moments, she had tapped into the station’s local network, and soon after had pulled up the station’s directory.  Shepard watched the data scroll by, most of it unintelligible to her.

“It’s hard to believe, I must’ve walked right past them on my way to find you.”

The directory glittered above her arm, intangible.  Most of the old station had been converted to private use apartments.  Names scrolled by, mostly human, interspersed with a handful of salarian scientists sharing their own lab, a turian sub-diplomat, what appeared to be an asari and a human cohabiting, a hanar priest-...

“There,” Rahna pointed out.  Flicking her fingers across the entry, it highlighted, expanding across her display.

 _Nevryn_.

“Let’s go,” Shepard said.

The back of her neck itched.

~*~

The private laboratory was locked, display reading that the facility was currently empty.  Shepard rang the chime, predictably to no effect.

Huffing a small sigh at the obstacle, Rahna booted up her omni-tool.

After a few moments of tinkering, the light phased to green, and the door slid open.  Rahna stepped back, her hand slipping around Shepard’s arm.  For a split second, the commander tensed, but made no protest.  With Rahna in tow, she stepped forward.

Both walls of the hallway entrance were covered in floor to ceiling mirror, opposing one another.  Rahna glanced left, then right, into the distance of an eternal reflection, while Shepard kept her eyes forward.  The room beyond was sparse, with only a few small crates filling a single corner, a table with a single chair off to one side, and a small refrigeration unit against the wall.  Two doors split off from the room at a right angle from one another.  Shepard opted for the nearest door through the adjacent wall, leading into a sterile laboratory.

“This is where...”

Sweeping her gaze through the laboratory, Shepard thought for a moment that the doctor might bolt, but instead her fingers tightened on Shepard’s arm.

The laboratory itself seemed set up for biomedical purposes, with an examination table and monitoring equipment on one side and a host of chemical agents and various sundry supplies arranged on shelves against the opposite wall.  A line of bottles lined the counter under a pair of cupboards, and Rahna ran her fingers across their labels as they passed.

“I don’t recognize any of these,” she mused, picking one up to examine in her hand.  “Not for any medical use, anyway.”

Shepard glanced over Rahna’s shoulder, then skimmed the labels for herself.

“They’re military grade synthetic toxins,” she said.  “Many of them cause unpleasant effects – pain, nausea, anxiety.  Easily flushed out of the system with no trace to conform with standard intergalactic treaties.  Top clearance, top secret, highly restricted access.”  As an afterthought, she remarked, “She shouldn’t have these.”

Aghast, Rahna stared at Shepard’s back as the commander continued forward, slipping from her grasp.  It took her a few moments to reply, voice crawling strangled from her throat as she slammed the bottle back on the counter.  “ _No one_ should have these.”

Without further comment, Shepard pressed her fingers to the control of the first of two doors, near one another on adjacent walls.  It slid open, revealing an ample, near empty room, in use as a meager storage closet.  She glanced to the second, tapping the control.

Eyes narrowing sharply, she let her hand fall, while Rahna joined her at the door, then rushed forward past her.

Larger than the first, the second room was bare and empty, save for the man curled tightly into the farthest wall.  Rahna dropped to her knees, crawling up beside him, and Kaidan flinched away from her, attempting to press impossibly further into the wall.

“Hey,” she said softly, “hey, easy, it’s okay, I’m here to help.”

At the sound of her voice, he stilled, peering out at her over his arm.  She held out her hands, forcing a smile that wilted at the corners.

“Hey...”

Squinting, Kaidan leaned forward to reach for her, fingers brushing lightly across her cheek.  Pulling him into a protective embrace, Rahna looked up at Shepard, who stood silently in the doorway.  Kaidan followed her gaze, the glaze to his eyes making Shepard uneasy.

Hand resting against her pistol, the commander glanced back over her shoulder at the empty laboratory.

“Stay with him,” she said, turning away from Kaidan’s empty stare.  “I’m going to make sure she’s gone.”

  
  
(Art by DarkistheNight)


	9. Nevryn

Scouring the apartment as quickly as caution would allow, Shepard found it contained in full little more than they had already found.  Set apart through the first room they had passed, were a set of smaller rooms repurposed into fairly meager living quarters.

Predictably enough, there was no trace of Nevryn beyond that she lived here, nor of when she had left, how long she would be gone, or when she would return.  Whether she would return, Shepard had little doubt.

Hastening back, she found that Kaidan’s initial bought of panic at their arrival seemed to have subsided.  More at ease, he once again leaned back against the wall, with Rahna kneeling in front of him.  Both glanced up at her return.

“Can he be moved?” Shepard asked, tone brusque.

Rahna looked to Kaidan, and back to Shepard.  “I don’t see an immediate reason why not....”

Nudging Rahna out of the way with her boot, Shepard stooped down to pull Kaidan’s arm over her shoulder, and hauled him to his feet.  At first he struggled, but Shepard half-dragged him until he picked up alongside her, and his weight fell against her, almost comfortably.  Making an effort not to think about it, she led him through the laboratory proper, trusting Rahna to follow.

In the next room, before the mirrored hall, the commander stopped short.  Upon the far wall, an image of an asari – of Nevryn – stood still, transfixed by the reflection of the mirrors.

Shepard swiftly detangled herself from Kaidan, shoving him at Rahna, who glanced first at her, then ahead.

“Run.”

“Run, _where_?”

“Anywhere but here.”

Shepard moved around the corner, and Nevryn’s head snapped towards her.  Faster than Rahna could fathom, Shepard had pulled her gun free and to bear.  An instant later, the mirrored corridor lit up from the asari’s biotics, and Rahna ducked, swinging down and under, maneuvering Kaidan’s more sluggish weight in a half-circle in her effort to half pull, half push him towards safety.

Kaidan stumbled at the explosion of gunfire behind them; Rahna flinched, struggling not to.

 

Not one shot made it past Nevryn’s biotics.  What the whorl of crackling energy didn’t drag back into its core, the barrier deflected harmlessly.

Shepard squared her stance, bracing herself against the tingling pull.  The moment the singularity faltered, she lunged forward, only to be caught halfway in a crushing stasis field.  An instant later, pain lanced through her back as she slammed into the ceiling.  As the commander began to fall, Nevryn’s mouth twisted into a petulant scowl, and she swept her arm, sending Shepard sidelong into the mirrored wall.  Another sweep of Nevryn’s arm, and Shepard hit the opposite wall, before finally crashing to the floor in a shower of broken glass.

Her vision dimmed, flickering with the pounding in her head.  Ignoring the bite of the glass, Shepard focused on her weapon, reaching towards where it had fallen, barely within reach of her fingertips.  The pistol flew out of reach, as Nevryn kicked it out of sight.

The asari stared down at her, face contorted in unreserved contempt.  Shepard huffed, as much of a laugh as her breathless lungs could manage.

Shoving at the floor, she twisted herself up.  The effort was lost as Nevryn’s boot smashed into her jaw.  Her head hit the wall, and darkness closed in amidst the crunch of broken glass.

~*~

The commotion died behind them, far sooner than she might have wished.  Knee buckling, Kaidan slumped to the laboratory floor, dragging Rahna down with him.  He smiled, for a mere instant resembling the boy she once knew. 

“Go,” he told her.  “It’s alright.”

“No, it’s not,” Rahna whispered, “I can’t-...”

She cringed back as a woman turned the corner behind them, boots scuffing on the floor.  Heart sinking, Rahna stood, placing herself between Nevryn and Kaidan.

“Hasn’t there been enough misery?” she asked.  “Why couldn’t you leave us alone?”

Nevryn’s biotics flickered across her skin – a flare of power.  Maybe she could have killed them outright, but her crooked smile echoed Vyrnnus and Rahna suddenly had no doubt that she was drawing out the experience, enjoying the fear and the pain.

Rahna pulled her arm close to her chest, raising a barrier.  A hopeless gesture, for warding off terror in the dead of night.  Something brushed her calf, and she looked down, finding Kaidan’s hand on her heel, that same selfless fear etched into his face.

She could run.

But she _couldn’t_.

When she looked up again, she gasped.

Nevryn recoiled at her reaction, not fast enough to avoid the woman behind her.  Hooking an arm around her neck, Shepard kicked the asari’s leg out from under her and followed her to the ground.  Nevryn writhed, glow faltering, but she couldn’t shake off the determined soldier.

The barrier dissipated off her skin as Rahna dropped to the floor.  She hooked an arm around Kaidan’s chest, half dragging him in a scrambled crawl, pressed into the corner as far out of the way as possible.  She curled herself around him, cradling him gently.  Upon catching a glimpse of Shepard pummeling their assailant, she averted her gaze and squeezed her eyes shut, flinching at the sound of each blow.

The pounding stopped, yet echoed in her ears.  Hesitant, Rahna opened her eyes, peering over Kaidan’s head.

 

Bloodied, the commander knelt frozen with one fist raised, studying the utterly still form beneath her.  Threat neutralized, she moved to rub at her face, then seemed to think better of it, letting her hands fall completely as she leaned back, eyes closed and shoulders drooping.  Gradually, her ragged breathing steadied.

At long last, her head lolled in their direction.  For a long moment, she regarded them silently as they huddled together.  With a long, shaky breath, she climbed to her feet, staggering the other direction.


	10. Aftermath

Sharp pain needled across her skin as her back hit the wall.  Ignoring it, Shepard sank towards the floor.  Flecks of blood adorned the smooth surface above her, and she scoffed softly at the sight.  Slowly, her fingers worked the clasps of her harness, and, lethargic, she peeled her shirt up over her head.  A particularly large sliver of glass twisted in her left arm, caught in her sleeve, and she stared, transfixed, at it as it reflected the light from above.

“Here, let me.”  Rahna knelt beside her, dropping to one side an armful of medical supplies she had scraped together from... _somewhere_ , Shepard decided she’d rather not think about.

“Kaidan is broken.”  She glared over the hem of her shirt.  “Fix _him_.”

“I can’t do anything for him,” Rahna said softly.  “Not yet.  Not without knowing what she did-... what’s wrong with him.” She sighed, and though the sound was unsteady, her hands didn’t shake as she untangled the shirt and probed the damage to Shepard’s flesh.  “You, I can keep from bleeding to death.  It’s small, but it’s something.”

Firm, but gentle, she deftly picked the shards out piece by piece, sealing the smaller lacerations one by one.  Shepard stared at the floor as the pebbles and slivers and mere flecks of bloodied glass accumulated, eyebrows knit, lips pressed thin.

“We couldn’t have forced it out of her.  She wouldn’t have told us.”

“You’re right.  I don’t think she would have.”  The doctor shivered, breathing a whispered, “But I might have enjoyed watching you try.”

Shepard arched an eyebrow, eyeing her candidly.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Rahna snapped.  “Just now, you beat a woman to death with your bare hands.  I’m sure you can forgive a few moments of traumatized hysterics.”

“You’re not quite what I might have expected.”   Her hands were less weathered than Chakwas’, and softer than Kaidan’s, lacking calluses.  Shepard hissed a breath as Rahna eased the largest shard from her arm, before pinching the edges of the wound together.

“What were you expecting?”  Rahna pressed the clumped end of bandage into Shepard’s palm, and worked to wrap the torn arm in the soft cloth.  Shepard bobbed her head in lieu of a full shrug.

 

In the ensuing silence, Rahna worked diligently.  Once finished, she brushed her hands off on her trousers, leaving streaks of red on the white cloth.  “We should call station security.”

“No,” Shepard told her.  “If we call security, I get hauled in for a court martial while the Bureau of Transhuman Affairs,” Shepard’s lips curled around the designation, “gets to have their sordid way with Kaidan.”

Rahna scoffed softly.  “Whose fault would that be, I wonder?”

~*~

The laboratory had been cleaned and tidied, and with a strategy in place, Shepard stumbled through the door to Kaidan’s cell.  After double checking that the door could be opened from the inside, she sidled down into the corner opposite from him.

“You know,” Shepard mumbled, “There’s a perfectly good cot on the other side of this facility.” Stretching her legs out, she folded her hands in her lap.  “I’m sure the good doctor wouldn’t mind sharing it with you.”

Pressed into his corner, Kaidan regarded her silently.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” she said.  “I’m merely going to sit here and think about it.”

Kaidan’s eyes narrowed over his arm.

“Sorry,” Shepard whispered, voice creaking.  Resting her cheek against the cool wall, she sighed, closing her eyes.  “That was the concussion talking.”

She heard him move behind her, but it didn’t register until Kaidan’s arm slipped around her waist, and his fingers combed gently through her hair.  Shepard reached up, fingers finding the familiar set of his jaw as his chin came to rest above her shoulder.  It felt warm and comfortable, mingled with a sense of _wrong_ that she couldn’t shake off.  While her mind drifted towards a haze of unconsciousness, foreboding squelched and settled in the pit of her stomach.

 

When she woke up, a blanket had been tucked around her shoulders, and the room was empty.

~*~

The bag slipped through her fingers and landed flat on the examination table.  Kaidan leaned to peer into it, then pulled it onto his lap to rifle through the contents.  Rahna didn’t seem to have moved in the entire time she had been gone, although the mess of OSDs, data chips, slates, and errata was in a constant state of flux.

They had moved the small table from the entrance to serve as her workstation, along with a portable terminal they found in the bedroom.  The laboratory computer ran analyses while Rahna pored over every bit of data she could disseminate from Nevryn’s files.  Crossing her arms, Shepard moved to watch the data stream over the doctor’s shoulder.

“I managed to finagle enough out of the grocer to tide you over, for the time being,” she said.  “But the Alliance froze my account.  I can’t stay here much longer.”

Rahna looked up at her, then back to the terminal.  Raising her fingers to the ceiling, she reported, “I may not need much longer.”

She pushed the chair out and stood up, and Shepard moved back to give her space.

“She hasn’t exactly kept practical scientific records of her work,” Rahna stretched a bit as she spoke, “But she did make some observations...”

The commander jumped and spun about at the bag of groceries hitting the floor.  Kaidan studied at his hands, then, becoming aware of the sudden scrutiny he was under, folded them into his lap.

“I’ll spare you the oh so pleasant details,” Rahna continued, looking back to Shepard.  “But I think I figured out what she did to him that caused this, and I... I may be able to reverse the damage.”

Sensing her hesitancy, Shepard merely stared at her, waiting for her to continue.

“There’s a catch.” Bobbing her head to the side, Rahna admitted, “Two, actually.”

When she didn’t elaborate, Shepard’s eyebrows knit together.  “Are you being dramatic on purpose?”

“No,” Rahna scoffed.  “I am most certainly not being dramatic on purpose.  I would like to be working in a fully staffed laboratory with the highest doctors of neural medicine at my beck and call, and am steeling myself for the inevitable reality of some ramshackle Doctor Frankenstein’s basement.”

She shook her head, sighing.  “Look, if I’m right, then in the case of his memory, his short-term memory and transference is interfering with his long-term memory recall.  If I try to fix it, I may end up wiping clean everything since he’s been infected, as well as, potentially, anything else that might be compromised.”

“Infected?” Shepard grabbed for the doctor, fingers twining in the fabric of her labcoat.  “Are you telling me he’s _contagious_?”

“No, no, he’s not contagious; it’s not...” Rahna shoved her hand away, smoothing the wrinkles Shepard had left .  “Look it doesn’t matter.  If I’m _wrong_ ,” she faltered, “I could make things worse.”

Shepard glanced at Kaidan, only to find that he was paying rapt attention to the conversation.  How much was getting through to him, she couldn’t have guessed – he was better than she might have imagined at pretending.

“How much worse?” she asked, voice sticking in her throat.

“It’s hard for me to say.  The human brain is a complex and delicate thing.”

Shepard breathed, _in, out_.

“It’s his choice.”

On the examination table, Kaidan shifted his weight.

“It’s not much of a choice,” he rasped.

Shepard narrowed her eyes at him.  “Good of you to finally show up and join in on the conversation.”

Crossing her arms, she wandered over to examine Nevryn’s illicit medicine cabinet.  Behind her, Rahna drifted to Kaidan’s side.

“Do it,” he told her.  “If it doesn’t work, it can’t be much worse than this... _this_.”

“If it works,” Rahna tried to force a smile, but it twisted, “you won’t remember me.”

Kaidan smiled, brushing the line of her cheek with his thumb.  “I’ll always remember you.”

They lingered for a moment longer, before Rahna sighed deeply.

“Okay,” she whispered, “okay...”

She returned to the terminal, looking up as Shepard’s shadow fell over her.

“I, uh... should get going,” the commander said.  “The faster I get the Alliance on my tail, the safer you’ll both be.”

Kaidan seized her hand as she passed the table, and Shepard froze.  A part of her wanted to believe that, if she looked, there would be something there, something she recognized.  Uneasiness gnawed at her, and instead she reached down to pry his fingers away.

She didn’t look, nor did she look back.


	11. Homecoming

~*~

The light flicked on at the front of the cabin, signaling passengers ready to disembark.

Kaidan stretched in his seat.  He cast a bleary glance about the compartment, and realized that he must have dozed off.  As everyone around him began to move, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, waiting for the initial crush of impatient passengers to thin out, before reaching to retrieve his travel bag from beneath his feet.

The baggage compartment was empty.

 

At a loss, he disembarked, taking to the military queue behind a gaggle of younger enlistees and a handful of off-duty officers.  As he waited, Kaidan let his attention wander across the artwork lining the walls –murals of grand adventures in space that sprawled along the corridor.  His gaze skimmed the crowd, lingering on a woman in the civilian boarding line, staring at him.

When he noticed her, she smiled.  Reflexively, he smiled back, and she turned away, toying with a stray lock of her hair.  She snuck a glance back as her line moved forward, and shied away again, shaking her head and biting her lip.

Interstellar trouble, he mused, was started with less.

“Sir?”

Kaidan’s attention snapped back, and finding himself the last in line, he stepped up to the desk.

“Hey, um,” he explained, he keyed in his registration, “I seem to have misplaced my bag.  Could you maybe have someone keep an eye out for it?”

“Yes, sir.”  The attendant reached beneath the counter for a data chip, and placed it between them.  “Could you fill out this form, sir?”

Kaidan scanned the form into his omni-tool and studied it, fingers hovering over the interface.  “Is this the right form?”

“I believe so, sir.”

“I took the shuttle from Earth, this says it’s from Gagarin Station.”

The attendant’s eyes flicked towards the gate.  “This is the shuttle from Gagarin Station, sir.”  At his silence, she prodded, “Sir?”

“Yeah.”  Filling out the form as quickly as his fingers could move, he then dropped the chip into the attendant’s waiting hand.  “I’m sorry; thank you.”

“I’m sorry for any trouble, sir,” the attendant called after him.  Absently, Kaidan waved it off, mind racing in circles.

~*~

That the _Normandy_ wasn’t in the right docking bay was the least of his concerns.  In truth, that she was docked at Arcturus at all was something of a small miracle.  That he still had access was another.

There seemed to be a skeleton crew in the CIC, and Kaidan caught sight of Joker peering at him around his chair before slipping quickly out of sight.  At Kaidan’s approach, the pilot decided it was an opportune time for a full systems’ check.

“Hey, look, um...” Kaidan swallowed, and paused to steel his nerves.  “Is Shepard on board?”

“Not since last I checked.”

“Any idea where I can find her?”

Joker’s arm slapped against the armrest, and he folded the display up.

“We went through this last time, okay?” he grunted, hauling himself out of the chair.  “She’s not here, I don’t know where she is, and right now...”  He wavered as he maneuvered about, deftly catching his balance as he faced Kaidan head on.  “I would be more worried about myself if I were you.”

Soft footfalls approaching the cockpit, cautious perhaps but not hesitant, announced Liara’s arrival.  Joker’s glance bounced off her, and he set his jaw, staring Kaidan down.  Kaidan took one look at Joker, and turned to her.

“Liara,” he asked, “do you know where Shepard is?”

“Yeah, hey, Liara,” Joker cut in.  A cheap grin plastered on his face, he angled his way towards her.  “Can I talk to you for a minute?  Real important stuff, over here.”

“Yes, in a moment,” Liara nodded to Joker, then addressed Kaidan, “Shepard had an important meeting with the Fifth Fleet Admiralty.”

“Thank you.”  Stepping around Joker, Kaidan slipped by Liara towards the airlock.

“You wanted to talk-...”

“Yes, not right now,” Joker brushed her off.  “ _Alenko_.” Kaidan paused, with the airlock control holo display dancing around his fingertips.  “Don’t be stupid.  You don’t want to do this, you’re only going to dig yourself deeper.”

“That’s my risk to take, don’t you think?”

 

Outside the airlock, Kaidan passed Pressly on the gangway.

“Good to see you back on your feet, Lieutenant,” he offered by way of greeting.  Kaidan glanced at him, once and then again over his shoulder.

“Thanks...”

For a brief moment, Kaidan weighed his options.  Ultimately, whatever was going on, he determined he would rather hear it from Shepard herself.

~*~

The curve of the station left an overlook above the building that housed the upper echelons of the Alliance Military Command.  A sparse handful of trees had been planted along the walk in a crooked alignment with the curve, and benches had been placed accordingly in an open invitation for pedestrians to sit and admire the view, or merely to rest at their leisure.

Shepard slouched on the overlook bench, arms draped over the back, legs stretched to length and crossed at the ankles, in the way of passersby who paid her little mind.

Five paces behind her, Kaidan hesitated.  Although he was afforded some measure of leniency in being her lieutenant, there was still a measure of protocol to be observed.  Sitting in close company on a park bench in the local equivalent of broad daylight could easily give to the notion of impropriety.

At his approach, she shifted marginally, though not before he recognized the glimpse of a bandage swathed about her arm as it disappeared from his line of sight.  She twisted marginally to the right, and at once he couldn’t fathom having caught her by surprise.

At a loss, Kaidan eased down onto the bench behind her.

Adjacent, but divided.

If he turned his head just so, he could see stray wisps of auburn hair.

“Shepard...”

Kaidan didn’t know what to say, or how to even begin.  He wanted to ask if she was alright.  He wanted to know what happened, and why he couldn’t remember it happening, and if it had anything to do with him at all.  And if it didn’t, he wanted to know what did.  Most of all, he wanted to find solace in her arms and never let her go.

Except that they were in public, and in public propriety reigned.

“Don’t worry about it,” Shepard told him.  “I fixed it.”

He cringed at the hollowness to her voice.

“It doesn’t feel fixed to me,” he said.  Swallowing, he managed to push the words out, despite the sudden thickness in his throat, “What happened?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Yeah, well, maybe not to you.”  Kaidan chanced a glimpse of the back of her head, and the tip of her ear.  “But did you think that it might matter to me?”

“Kaidan...”

She sounded so tired it _hurt_. 

“I can’t do this anymore.”

Cold dread welled up within him.  “What do you mean?”

All at once, Kaidan knew that her location wasn’t a random act of chance.

Shepard had chosen it as a battlefield.

The bench was wide open; even if the entire platform wasn’t under observation, which was in itself indisputable this close to the heart of the Alliance Military, there was too much a risk of being seen for him to cause a scene.  Had he taken any other route, he could as easily have missed her while she would have no doubt seen him from a heightened vantage, even if only at a distance.

All at once, he didn’t have to ask what she meant, because it was blindingly obvious.

“Shepard, can we go somewhere a little more private so we can talk about this?”  On reflex, he rubbed at the pressure building behind his eyes.  His head hurt, and deep inside his heart began to ache, bloody and raw.  “Please?”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

Perhaps he could have said something, but it wouldn’t have mattered.  Kaidan knew, in his heart and from experience, that she wouldn’t have budged, so instead he said nothing.  Empty and worn, he couldn’t even gather the motivation to move.  And so, the silence Shepard was ever fond of stretched on.

It was a trap.

He had fallen into it, headfirst.

  
(Art by DarkistheNight)


	12. Fixing Us

There wasn’t much to clean out of his locker.  His arms and armor.  His spare battledress.  His dress uniform, still snug in its case.  A few personal affects – a couple of OSDs with personal code and documents, a spare omni-tool core, a change of civilian clothes.  A medallion dangled above it all, affixed by its cord to the locker’s ceiling.  He watched it dangle, before pulling it free.

Turning it over in his hands, Kaidan studied the antique metal coin in thought.  Tracing the etching, he smiled faintly.

The medallion was the first to go.  Then the armor and weapons in their cases, and his clothes.  His tech went into the side pocket on top of the medallion.

For all that he may as well have been ripping his own heart out, it was so swift, so routine, so _easy_.

“Lieutenant?”

Kneeling beside the bag to zip it closed, he glanced up.  Pressly stood over him, shifting his weight from foot to foot.  Kaidan stood, and Pressly glanced down at the OSD in his hand.  “I, um... have your request here.”

Pressly pressed the device into Kaidan’s waiting palm.  Kaidan stared at it, and his voice cracked above a whisper, “Thanks.”

Pressly thrust out his hand.  Dropping the OSD into his other hand, Kaidan returned the gesture with less enthusiasm, nonetheless clasping the commander’s hand in a firm handshake.

“I have to say, you’re one hell of a soldier,” Pressly said.  “I hate to see you go.  I’m sure Commander Shepard feels the same, after everything she went through to bring you back to us in one piece.”

Doubt worried its way into Kaidan’s gut.

“Yeah, I...”  Shaking his head, he cut himself short.  It wasn’t Pressly’s fault he didn’t know Shepard’s mind; close as they were, or had been, even Kaidan wouldn’t claim to fathom Shepard’s mind.   “You know, I still don’t even know what happened.”

“I can’t say I know the details myself.” Pressly scratched at his cheek.  “But I do know you were in rough shape for a while, there.  I’m sure Shepard could tell you the details.”

Except now she wouldn’t even talk to him.

“You know, I hate to leave,” Kaidan admitted, managing a weak smile.  “But I don’t think it’s a good idea to stay.”

It was all too intertwined, and he could no longer see any way to reconcile _personal_ with _professional_.  Especially not with Shepard refusing to meet him halfway.

“I’ll leave you to it.” Pressly nodded, returning the smile.  “Godspeed, Lieutenant.”

He cut an efficient path for the elevator, while the OSD cut into Kaidan’s palm.

There were good reasons that fraternization was against regulations.

~*~

The door hissed open, and Shepard swept her hand through the terminal, canceling the display.  Flexing her fingers, she curled them into a fist, pressing her knuckles against her chin.  Five perfect paces across the deck, and the OSD landed on her desk, with Kaidan’s hand coming down beside it.  She stared at the device out of the corner of her eye.

“All it needs is your signature, and I’m gone,” he murmured, leaning in over her shoulder.  For a moment he hesitated, as though it would be that easy.

Kaidan straightened, giving her space.  Shepard huffed softly into her hand, counting heartbeats.  Beside her, he shifted his weight, and then...

“But before that, can we talk?” he asked.  “Please.”

Her hand fell flat.  Easing out of her chair, Shepard leaned on the desk and flicked the device lightly with a fingernail.  Her gaze swept up, challenging his guarded expression with one of dead neutrality.

“Talk,” she breathed.

It took him a minute to compose himself, though she knew he had to have been running this through his head since before he walked through the door.  She waited him out, until, taking a deep, steadying breath, he finally met her eyes.

“Commander, I can take not knowing and I can take you not wanting...” his voice hitched, near imperceptible, “not wanting this.”  Pausing, he took in a shaky breath.  “But I can’t take both.  I can’t take this, not without knowing why.”

When she didn’t answer, Kaidan shook his head, ever slightly.

“Shepard,” he pleaded.  “try to look at this from my point of view.  I am missing _weeks_ of time I can’t account for.  _No one_ is willing to tell me what happened.  All of the sudden, I’ve got these... _marks_ on my record that are sealed.  Top level security clearance required.”  His voice took on an edge, “I really have to wonder who could have done that.”

Shepard pressed her thumb to the bridge of her nose.  Eyeing him over the back of her hand, she sighed.

“You...” she began, “ _may_ be surprised, I know I was, to learn that Vyrnnus had a daughter.  An asari daughter.  As it seems, she was hellbent on revenge, and wanted to use you against-...”

“Shepard,” Kaidan interrupted.  “Don’t.”

Shepard’s eyes narrowed.  “...what?”

There was a subtle hint of frustrated laughter under his voice, mingled with hopeless exasperation.  “Don’t try to use Vyrnnus to make me swallow your crap.”

Shepard gawked at him.  At a loss, she blinked, mouth moving around empty words.

“Alright, fine, um...”  Flicking her fingers, Shepard explained forthright, “I had a run in with my fiancé – you remember my fiancé?  One thing led to another, you know how it can be, and needless to say, you were...” she pressed her tongue against her teeth, bobbing her head as she picked through her wording carefully, “understandably upset.  The two of you got into a row, he got a... rather... lucky hit in which knocked you senseless.” She shrugged, sinking down against her desk and kicking her feet out.  “Seems to have given you a touch of amnesia.  I’m sure it’ll all come back to you in time.”

Kaidan stared down at her, dissatisfaction working its way down the muscles of his jaw.  “ _Bullshit_.”

Shepard snorted, crossing her arms tight against her chest.  “How the hell would you know?”

“Because I-...”  Kaidan dipped his head, pressing his fingers to his forehead, and laughed – a bitter, self-deprecating sound.  “It really doesn’t matter, does it?”

His hand dropped, catching on his opposite elbow.  Arms loosely crossed, he regarded her candidly.

“I love you.”

Shoving off the desk, Shepard shook her head with a scoff.  “You say that so easily.”

“Maybe because it's the truth.”  A faint smile graced Kaidan’s lips, only to fade away.  “Your move, Commander.”

Shepard’s gaze dropped to the OSD.  Picking it up, she flipped it in her hands.

“You, uh,” she swallowed, “started having these... problems.  A few weeks ago, right after that funeral you attended, if you remember that.” In the corner of her eye, she watched his attention snap into focus.  “Memory problems, to start with.  Didn’t know who I was.  Didn’t know the _Normandy_.  Didn’t know the half of it.  And we had to take you to these specialists... _biotic_ specialists, and they did all these asinine tests.”

Kaidan stepped towards her, near enough to touch.  “They couldn’t figure out what was wrong with you, not at first.  Didn’t even know where to start.  Eventually, they had some kind of a breakthrough and managed to heal the damage, or so they said.  Something foreign in your system, meningitis or whatever; I don’t know, you know me, I’m no doctor.”  Picking at the OSD’s casing, Shepard gauged his reaction.  “After that, we... they determined it would be best to let you walk yourself back.” She flicked the device back onto the desk, looking up at him.  “Simple.”

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Guess not,” Shepard replied through grit teeth.  Her gaze dropped, and she scratched at the bandages on her arm.  He reached out to stop her, covering her hand with his own.

“Is that what scared you so bad you don’t even want to talk to me?”

“Not really, no.”  Shepard pulled back from his touch, and ran her fingers through her hair.  “Although you did toss me on my ass.”

“I did?”  Realization struck him, and he reached out to stop her from moving away further, catching her by the shoulder.  Gently, he nudged her chin upward with the barest touch of his thumb, studying the bruises that marred her face.  In his throat, sorrow mingled with dismay.  “Did I do that?”

“Nah.” Shepard flicked his hand away.  Her eyes glittered, impish.  “Tripped over my shoelaces and fell flat on my face.”

Kaidan shook his head.  “Commander-...”

“It’s the truth.”

His grip tightened on her shoulder, and her hand came to rest along the inside of his elbow.  Eyes narrow, Shepard studied the composition of his harness.

“Shepard...”

“I miss you.”

Kaidan hissed as though he’d been burned.  Shepard’s fingers dug into his arm.  All at once, he wrapped his arms around her, and her body flowed against him.  She buried her face against his neck, and her hand slid up his chest, coming to rest flat above his heart.

“Do you really want a transfer?”

“ _Damnit_ , Shepard,” Kaidan snarled into her hair.  His arms tightened around her, and a sharp sigh shivered through him.  “What do you _think_?”

“I think if you start bawling, I’m gonna kick your ass.”

If Shepard kept her eyes closed, it would have been easy to pretend everything was alright.  There was a measure of contentment to be had in the embrace, an echo of the warmth and comfort she had far too swiftly grown accustomed to.

The moment they parted, the memory would fade.  They would both be the better for it.

Opening her eyes, Shepard pushed him back, and watched the play of emotion across his face.  Surprise, sorrow, disappointment.

Resignation.

Kaidan shook his head, and glanced at her desk.

“You have my application for transfer,” he reminded her, turning to leave.  “When you’ve made up your mind, let me know.”

Shepard’s gaze fell to the OSD on her desk, and she picked it up, weighing it in her hand.

“Kaidan.”

She waited for him to turn, then flicked her thumb.  Bewildered, Kaidan started, reflexively catching the device as it bounced off his chest.  A moment later, it clattered to the floor, forgotten as Shepard pinned him against the wall.  Despite the wary edge to his eyes, despite _everything_ , his mouth remained warm and soft and inviting.

In the quiet breath past the initial crush of lips and teeth, Kaidan regarded her, conflicted.  She kissed his chin, before settling into his arms.  “I am on a very short leash right now.”

His chest fluttered, a silent chuckle ghosting through her hair, and she shivered at the shadow of pain in his voice.  “That’s all you had to say.”

“I can’t...” she breathed, lifting her cheek from his shoulder.  Kaidan tensed, frustration pooling in his eyes and tightening the corners of his mouth.  “I can’t make it okay.  I _tried_...”

The quiet anger melted away as quickly as it had come, replaced by a soft understanding that cut far deeper.  He dipped his head to press a kiss against her throat, lips lingering at her jaw, below her ear.

“Promise me you’ll cut loose if things go sour.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“ _Kaidan_.” It might have been an order.  It might have been mere aggravation.  Whatever it was, he duly ignored it as he fussed with the buckles of her harness.

“Promise me you won’t cut and run if it does,” he amended.  “And I promise that I’ll think about it.”

“You’re a jackass.”  Shepard’s eyes narrowed, and she glared sidelong at the indicator panel glowing a soft green at hip level beside them.  “And you didn’t lock the door.”

Voicing his exasperation in a scoff, Kaidan reached down blindly to engage the lock.  With a shift of his hip, he twisted them completely to press Shepard to the adjacent wall, and she curled against the curve of the bulkhead.  Perhaps they weren’t fixed, but they weren’t broken either.

And that would have to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're reading this end note, then I presume that you've read this far, and so I hope you enjoyed the fic.
> 
> Some History: Segments of this idea have been rolling around in my head a while, ever since I first played ME. This incarnation was born of two separate smaller one-shots that are currently sitting half-finished on my hard drive: one that Vyrnnus' family could have been driven to revenge, and the other with Shepard and Kaidan randomly stumbling into a Biotic Specialty Clinic where Rahna was the doctor, with Shepard and Rahna having a heart to heart while Kaidan is under for "Owfuck, overtaxed the amp".
> 
> And Extra Thanks to DarkistheNight, who not only contributed the Art to this affair, but also assisted with proofreading and listened to me struggle uphill in real time. <3


End file.
